


To be Alone (Together)

by Snickersnee_Sophie



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Ballroom Dancing, First Dance, Fluff, Get yer daily dose of Wesson, Guest of honor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:08:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24043375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snickersnee_Sophie/pseuds/Snickersnee_Sophie
Summary: Wilson isn't fond of gatherings-until he sees a familiar face.
Relationships: Wes/Wilson (Don't Starve)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 48





	To be Alone (Together)

**Author's Note:**

> Just something I wrote based on a drawing I did for their Guest of Honor/Formal skins!  
> Which also happens to be the first fic I have ever made public wink wonk

He never knew when to quit.

People filled the empty space of the ballroom, embellished with cloud-like gowns and pleasing attire.

The deep golden glow that illuminated the spacious area danced around each figure elegantly as a man clad in a charcoal black suit witnessed the interchanging of what seemed like a hundred people, yet he did not even know a hundred people. For all he knew it could be 50 people, 60, 70…

Always a man for numbers.

This particular mans name is Wilson, the likes of which is never usually drawn to the need for human interaction nor standing idly in a busy ballroom; but after so long of an isolation, hosting a hearty gathering was due to ease his mind from his overworking. Yep, hosting a ball.

He wished he hadn't.

Books and papers had always said conversation was good for the mind, right? Well, by god was Wilson cursing anything that had led his tired mind to believe such things. His wrist had begun to ache from the amount of writing he forced himself to endure and the bustling and chattering of his company enhanced it, his mind preferring to focus on his mild pain than the questions and gossip surrounding him. His headache had doubled tenfold from the sound that rattled through his head in a clamour and his heart ached for a quiet space, oh to be granted a box to sit in and be over with it all.

He gently raked three fingers through his pristine black hair, careful not to disturb it much. The man allowed a sigh to escape his lips, “I need a break.” He muttered to no one other than himself in fear even that could spark a conversation by pure accident. He began to make way for the exit that led to the main hall. The sound of his shoes clapping against the ballroom floor was severely drowned out by the laughter and voices surrounding him, at this point Wilson was finding it difficult to even construct a clear thought. As he wrung his fingers around his irritated wrist, he arched his back a little to wedge his way through two people who clearly did not care if they were in the way.

As he straightened, his eyes locked onto a familiar face. For a moment, he forgot where he was.

His thought process flipped like a switch to a past memory. Wilson knew this man. He could recall posing, the splash of blue paint that stained one of the carpets, a portrait constructed with hands so delicate they should be treated like glass. 

A thundering laugh ensured the thought didn't last long, dragging his mind back to the present.

Wilson frowned to himself as he looked away before quickly glancing back at the man, whom he can recall being named Wes. Wes sat on the seat closest to the wall- Rather, against the wall. He sat with his legs crossed, an elbow propped upon his knee and his chin sat in the palm of his hand.

A sight Wilson wished could be captured in a painting.

Catching himself from staring, Wilson shook his head absentmindedly, drawing himself away from the lonely man.

Instead, he continued his journey to peace.

»»————- ♡ ————-««

Wilson had spent a few hours just sitting in the next room over, currently admiring the red roses that occupied the space on the window pane. The sun had finally departed and with it many guests were returned back to the humid night to go on about their lives, preferably not to be seen again as Wilson hoped. He had waited by the front door to bid them farewell which suited his gentleman attire, but he figured the last few knew where the exit was and so took a quick break. On said break he had thought of the man, sitting alone. Wondering if he should have asked him to dance…

But of course what would the public think?

Why, he pondered, was he even thinking such things?

Deciding he should see if anyone remained, he stretched his legs before he traveled to the ballroom area and opened those golden doors.

Just as he made a single step into the room, his velocity was stopped as he collided with something solid, not hard enough to knock him back but it produced an “OH!” from Wilson nonetheless! Wilsons vision was hindered by a blur for a moment from the surprise, blinking into space to regain thought- Then he noticed something. No, someone.

Suddenly he felt at ease.

“Goodness, Wes! You nearly scared the devil out of me!” Wilson began as he straightened his cuffs, “It is ‘Wes’, isn't it?” Of course, Wilson hadn’t expected him to answer. It was more of a rhetorical question more than anything; but nonetheless Wilson watched Wes’ painted lips as he smiled and nodded; which gave him the all clear. 

Thank heck.

Wilson subconsciously allowed a smile to tug at his own lips as he glanced down towards his feet, processing what to say next before quickly looking back to the man again, smile adorn.

“And what, pray tell, has had you sat away in the corner during such activities a man like yourself should indulge in?” Wilson spoke as he walked past Wes, entering the room and throwing his arms out wide, “In a room like this I'd assume you're yearning to dance!” His voice fell as an echo in the huge room, leaving Wes bite his lip as if to suppress a giggle. Wilson’s arms dropped to his sides as he turned around to face Wes again, “Unless, of course, you never had the privilege to learn the art of dance?”

Wes shook his head, dismissing the thought Wilson had. And with such a mystery, Wilson had forgotten everything about his aches and pains.

“Is it that you haven't the energy? A general lack of interest in dance? Someone you have a distaste for being present?” Wilson rubbed his chin in thought, thinking deeper into the unknown. “Perhaps you're not one for crowds?”

Wes clapped his hands together and nodded, confirming Wilsons last thought.

“Of course! I'm not one for crowds myself, mind you. I much prefer the quiet, time to think for myself. Or even just this!” Wilson gestured vaguely at Wes; “To be alone, but- but together!”

Wilson briefly had an expression of surprise, not meaning for his words to form a sentence of wanting; wanting to be alone with this man.

“Nevermind that,” Wilson hurried on, “I, myself, was looking forward to putting my rusty dance skills to use. Never got around to it, though. Too many people.”

Wes nodded in agreement, his hair bouncing in sync with his head as he pointed at himself as if to say ‘same!’.

“Ah! Well, if you came here wishing to dance it would be ludicrous to have you leave without having done so!”

With that, he offered a hand.

Wes motioned as if to gasp but no sound came as he ambled closer to Wilson, the way he walked showing a sense of ease and comfort around the other man.

Wilson wondered if he was being too forward- suddenly asking this man to dance. It seemed almost absurd! As Wes approached, Wilsons heart beat faster. God why couldn't he calm his heart down?! He felt he could pass out at any moment!

Wes draped his arm around Wilson loosely, placing his hand delicately on the small of his back; sending a shiver down his spine. He slipped his other hand swiftly into Wilsons who responded by intertwining their fingers- the dull ache of Wilsons wrist going completely unnoticed.

Why did he do that-

They hadn't needed to intertwine fingers.

Was he a fool for doing so?

Maybe not as Wes acknowledged the act by giving Wilsons hand an ever so gentle squeeze, a small yet reassuring gesture that stung Wilsons heart with a sense of fondness and warmth.

Wes took the lead;

and then they danced alone together.

The waltz had always been considered an intimate dance and this was true, the closeness of one to their partner and the rhythm needed to maintain the dance brought them together in more ways than one. The room was silent but not to both Wes and Wilson, whose thoughts drowned out any background noise present at all.

Wilsons eyes locked onto Wes like they had before- but this time Wes looked back. It was as though their thoughts could be read through their eyes and Wilson could swear he could see endearment in those sapphires. 

They danced for what could have been forever but felt like mere seconds. Wilsons mind was lost; lost in soft movement and the atmosphere of the moment. He had forgotten completely about his bothers and worries that ensued previously in the day. Instead his mind was on Wes. Wes, who was here, right now, with Wilson. It was as though he never left on that day when the portrait had been finished. The portrait that had always reminded Wilson of their first encounter every time he passed it.

The dance had slowed much more after the course of a few minutes, the two of them content to just sway, Wilson being hyperaware of the hand that held him.

More minutes passed..

Without much of a warning, Wes had leaned in and Wilson had to catch himself from stumbling- The closeness sending his heart aflame... Or maybe that was just his heartburn. Either way Wilson felt warmth around his cheeks at such an action, but raised his eyebrows in surprise when Wes pointed to the window behind him instead.

With the unforeseen feeling of disappointment that Wes wasn't after a little more, Wilson turned to gaze outside of said window.

The night outside of the warm building was dusted with stars, fireflies could be seen making up their own little dance scattered around the grounds. There was not a cloud to be seen as the full moons silver light trespassed through the window and onto the ballroom floor, joining the two men.

Wilson had to admit it was a breathtaking hour.

Turning back to Wes, Wilson watched as Wes tapped his wrist as if there was an invisible watch present there. “Ah,” Wilson began, “Best be setting off home?” With a nod from Wes, Wilson continued. “I see… Although it is very late and while I believe the full moon is on your side to guide you home, It is still dangerous for a man such as yourself to be out at such a time.”

Wes tilted his head curiously at Wilson, prompting him to continue.

“I would see it fitting for you to stay, just for tonight until you're safe to go home in the morning.”

Wes seemed unsure, taking a moment to glance outside once again at the darkness. After a moments thought he nodded.

»»————- ♡ ————-««

Wilson lay alone in his double bed, his mind racing and reimagining the events that happened today that lead to someone else sleeping in the room across from him. He knew that Wes would be gone when the sun comes up and he wondered if they would ever meet again. He contemplated ways to keep in contact- or if Wes even wanted to keep in contact. He didn't know much about Wes, after all. If only he knew what Wes was thinking in the other room. If he'd known, his cheeks would redden and he’d burn up once again. But he didn't know what he was thinking.

The ache in his wrist was back.

He never knew when to quit.

This time

He didn't want to.


End file.
